National Fantasies
by akuoni
Summary: Invasion after invasion... It never stops... It started with the German in your bed... And now it keeps on going! Current: America. Next: Canada.
1. A German Fantasy

Seeing Germany right_there_ with a _black_riding crop, _black_boots and a _black_pair of pants... 

With his _pale_skin and _intense_blue eyes that _stare_at you and _through_you~ 

and he's reclining on your desk chair-or maybe your bed- like it's his God-D*** throne and he's got a very _malicious_smirk quirking at the edge of his stern lips...  
And that's when you notice he isn't wearing his _white_undershirt that goes so well in contrast with his pants with that _perfectly_ironed crease down the middle and your eyes follow it _-simply because it's there~-_to stop at a _very noticeable_place. And you look up and see that _yes_... He had been watching the _whole time_and was full out _smirking_at you. 

And he's not been there long you realize as he stands and approaches you... his pants are unwrinkled as he moves towards you. and you realize just how _tiny_you are in comparison to him... he almost dwarfs you. He stands at nearly six foot. And you are more slight... His muscles play under the taught skin, shifting and so _hard_under your fingers as he guides them to feel his abdomen... And he brings them to feel his strong chest. And you feel it rumble as he speaks... 

_**"Für eine Nacht... Du hast mich..."**_

And he chuckles at the expression on your face, his hand... so _big_compared to yours, engulfes it, while the other caresses your cheek. 

_**"Für die ganze Nacht"... du hast mich..."**___

And then you open your eyes and curse...  
Because...  
As realistic as that was...  
It was only a fantasy...  
And so you roll out of bed and get ready...

never noticing the black leather that lay forgotten under your bed~


	2. An English Fantasy

The smell of salt and sand permeates the room as you enter. But you are more interested in the new usurper on your bed. He lays there with more pillows than you remember owning surrounding him. They are covered in a rainbow of fabrics and patterns and styles. But… Despite their beauty… your eyes are on him.

The soft brown boots are weathered to the point of infant-softness; stained by salt and sea, and worn down to a shallow heel. The pants are faded navy in coarse cotton, tucked into those boots. A sash of blood red adorns his hips, glittering with sewn-on rubies and gold coins. A heavy brocade coat of the same shade covers his arms and shoulders, fanning out behind him though you can't see it, the visible edges hinting at gold thread and silk inlays. A plain cream shirt covers his chest… as do countless gols chains and bejeweled pendants.

A gold hoop adorns one ear and his sandy-straw hair is covered by a feathered black fedora. In his hands is a blunder buster, and that's when you notice the faint acrid smell of fresh gunpowder teasing you with knowledge of its existence. A thrill of fear goes through you as you finally turn to look at him in the face. Amusement colors his green orbs emerald. Though shorter than the German, he is no less intimidating when he wishes…

"Allo Luv~"

His words are a sultry purr as he moves to stand with feline grace. He's a little taller than you, but that's not what has your attention at the moment. No… What has your attention is the hand cupping your cheek, and an arm encircling your waist, as he bends down. And you slap him because even if he is a damn fine pirate… He acts like he can just take your kisses from you without even asking your consent.

"I probably deserved that…"

And he says that so matter-of-factly. A vein pulses in your temple as you glower at him. He grins at you crookedly, showing gold caps… And leaps at you.

The next morning you can almost imagine a faint alcohol scent in the air as you slowly wake. Your body aches as you remember your vivid dream. An annoyed growl escapes you at the pirate's audacity… but you shrug it off. It was only a dream after all. Those kinks in your muscles are from sleeping awkwardly is all... You get ready for the day.

And under your bed rests an innocent gold trinket. A single gold hoop earring.


	3. A Russian Fantasy

The room is cold enough to make you shiver as you enter. You know who this latest invader is. An innocent smile greets you as you ignore the cream-color Russian trench coat with matching pants and the pale scarf wrapped around his neck. He is tall. Taller than the Englishman and the German. And many times more dangerous than either. He is not reclining on your bed like the other two. No.. He is leaning against your wall, tapping that faucet pipe on an open palm. The air about him seems ominous, but as you wait expectantly, it slowly dissipates and the pipe vanishes somewhere in the folds of his coat. You are still wary as he approaches you... Though not afraid. This is not a nightmare... you hope.

He eyes you critically with his amethyst optics, and you take that time to truly observe him. The jacket he wears is massive, and yet it strains against his shoulders and chest, revealing to you just how massive this Big-boned male is. Countless medals adorn his chest; symbols of his prowess on the battlefield. Even if you tried to flee, he could catch you with ease. You flinch as he suddenly reaches out to touch you.

"Ne volnuĭsya, milaya."

His voice is soft as he pats your head gently, soothingly. And you feel yourself relaxing. The pats turn to strokes, running through your hair languidly. The sensation is enough to make your knees weak... And he knows it. That smile is far too innocent for him to not know. It widens to show too many teeth as you moan at his touch. He catches you easily as your knees fail you, and you know that he would be able to lift a semi without breaking a sweat if he so desired. It is a terrifying thought.

"Vy milyĭ, malysh. Mozhet bytʹ, oni pozvolyat mne vladetʹ vami. "

He sounds thoughtful, but shakes his head and lowers you down onto your bed and lies down with you, cradling you in his arms.

You wake gradually, sore... But pleasantly so. You stretch languidly, the dream a warm memory, and glance at your alarm clock. And jump out of bed with a startled oath as you realize how late you overslept.

And while you are getting ready... under your bed lies an innocent button bearing a double-headed eagle crest.


	4. An American Fantasy

This new guy brings the heat of the noonday summer sun and the smell of earth and sweat. You see him sprawled out on your bed. A pair of dusty brown boots lay on the ground where he kicked them off, bright spurs glinting in the light. He wears old Levi's, stained by sweat and grime. Equally worn chaps cover his legs, one of which is hanging off of the bed while the other is propped up and bent at the knee.

His chest is bare save for the cowhide vest adorned by a gold star bearing a single word. Sherriff. His face is covered by a felt hat the color of fresh cream. He doesn't react to your approach, and you notice faint sounds coming from under the hat. You lift it up, and are gob smacked to discover that he is asleep. You scowl before shaking your head and sighing.

You sit down next to him and examine him further, drooling at the solid six-pack he sports… and those babies are rock-hard. You know this because you decide to sneak a feel before he wakes up. The skin is velvet-smooth and warm.

But your attention is drawn to his hair… Namely the cowlick known as Nantucket. You know that curiosit killed the cat, but you have to know if Fanon is right about the twin-ero-hair thing.

A hand grips your wrist just milimetres from that gravity-defying sprig of hair… And you look down to see twinkling blue eyes staring right back at you, bright with amusement. He tugs on the brim of his hat slightly and flashes a mega-watt grin at you.

"Well howdy li'l lady~"

His voice is a slow drawl as he lets his grin slide into a self-satisfied smirk. He sits up and tilts his head as he examines you. The smirk widens when you blush at the intensity of his scrutiny, though what emotion you are feeling is a mystery.

It seems he is content merely to look at you, but after a moment… He pulls out a piece of paper and examines it carefully. After he finishes, he folds it and puts it back in his pocket. He turns his attention to you, and the grin on his face is downright devilish. His blue eyes darken with impish glee as he pounces you… Or would have had you not moved out of his way. As it is, he still manages to capture your legs and transfers both to one hand. He clamps down on them as you thrash and wriggle to get out.

"Looks like I ketched meself a li'l wrangler~"

His voice is a purr as he avoids your thrashing limbs easily. A rope appears in his free hand, and he quickly ties your legs to the bottom of the bed. Once he finishes he moves away, and you frantically claw at the knot in an attempt to loosen it. But that was his plan all along. You suddenly find your hands cuffed to the top of your bed and he's untying your legs.

The next morning you wake tired, stiff, and sore… But feeling oddly pleased. At least your dream revealed the truth about that lock of hair. You grin and sit up, stretching languidly as you get ready for your day.

And while you do, a sharp spur lies forgotten under your bed…


End file.
